


Constrictor

by FishingforCrows



Series: Our New Life on Our Side [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-02 12:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19441222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FishingforCrows/pseuds/FishingforCrows
Summary: When Crowley is sleeping, traits of his true form start to show. Aziraphale experiences this with an unpleasant awakening.





	Constrictor

With all his debonair and cool demeanor, it is easy to forget Crowley’s true form. From the way he struts as though his hips and legs are making decisions of their own, to his animated and emphatic way of talking, few of his mannerisms are reminiscent of the serpent he once was. It really is only visible when all those things are stripped away, when he’s sleeping. In his sleep, he seeks out warmth, his cold-blooded instincts taking over. Aziraphale often woke up with the demon splayed on top of him, his shirt lifted up so that their warm skin was making contact. On top of that, if the angel sat up in bed reading when Crowley decided to let himself drift off, he could look over and watch as a forked tongue flicked out of his love’s mouth unconsciously, as though he were sniffing the air. 

One lazy winter morning, Aziraphale discovered another way in which Crowley remembered his old form while he slept. The angel awoke to the feeling of something wedged uncomfortably under his back. As he gained his bearings and looked over at his love with bleary eyes, he realized Crowley had somehow slipped an arm underneath him. He tried to sit up, but then noticed the demon’s other arm wrapped snuggly around his middle. He chuckled slightly, it was quite cute to see Crowley clinging to him like that. However, it became less cute when Aziraphale shifted to try and get up, and his grip grew tighter. He wriggled trying to get free but the serpent’s grip tightened further, starting to compress his chest to the point it was getting hard to breathe. One of Crowley’s legs had snaked over his own, wrapping around them and holding them to the bed so his motion was very limited. 

“Cuh…Crowley,” He gasped out as he watched the muscles in the demon’s arms flex, causing him to panic. The more he squirmed to get free, the tighter the hold got. “Dear…. Wake up… you’re… you’re going to crush me…” He said but it was to no avail. Crowley let out a deep, menacing hiss in his sleep. 

With no sign of escape, Aziraphale finally decided he would have to take a drastic measure to wake him up. He leaned his head back as far away from Crowley’s as he could, then slammed it forward, crashing skulls with the demon a loud ‘thud’. 

“OW!” Crowley shrieked in pain, his grip instantly loosening. Aziraphale gasped for air, taking deep, much needed breaths, and wincing at the pain in his own head. “What was that for?” The demon asked angrily as he rubbed at his head. 

“So sorry darling,” Aziraphale apologized earnestly. “But you were um… Well you were crushing me,” 

“You could have just pushed me off,” Crowley complained. 

“No, you were crushing me,” He repeated with more emphasis. “Like I was a deer you were going to unhinge your jaw to eat,” Realization dawned on Crowley’s face followed shortly by embarrassment. 

“Oh… sorry then,” He mumbled, looking ashamed of himself. Aziraphale sat up and scooted closer to Crowley, drawing his body into his arms gently. 

“It’s alright,” He said, giving him a kiss on the forehead where he had headbutted him. “You were asleep, can’t help it,” He reassured him. He knew Crowley didn’t like the animalistic parts of him. He’d changed his name so people wouldn’t think of him crawling on the ground and as soon as glasses had been invented, the demon had used them to cover up his serpentine eyes. The angel knew he did all this to distance himself from the other demons, the ones who wore their forms on their heads, proud of their fall. Crowley hadn’t meant to fall, he didn’t want to be fallen, so he removed and covered up the parts of him that served to remind him of it. “I forgive you,” Aziraphale whispered to him, cradling him close to his chest. On the surface he said that for the harm Crowley had almost done him, but both of them knew it was a reminder of something deeper. That even if he had fallen, and the almighty may not have forgiven him, Aziraphale did. He loved him for who he was and it didn’t matter if he was a demon or if they used to be on opposite sides.

Crowley’s eyes glistened with moisture, but he didn’t let them brim over. He smiled and turned his head so that he could meet Aziraphale in a tender kiss. The angel smiled into his lips and caressed his back. He loved Crowley, scales and all.


End file.
